


Successor

by scuttlingclaws



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Shin Monshou no Nazo | Fire Emblem: New Mystery of the Emblem
Genre: F/M, Post-Canon, Ships Are In The Background, my BOY Arlen's tag is empty tf, no beta we die like sigurd, not my main focus here tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:08:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23553589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scuttlingclaws/pseuds/scuttlingclaws
Summary: Arlen would never had what Merric did.
Relationships: Ellerean | Arlen/Linde, Ellis | Elice/Merric
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	Successor

**Author's Note:**

> I used to be a big Merric/Linde person but lately Arlen/Linde has been on my mind. Also poor Arlen has barely any content anywhere ;~; poor guy

He would never have what Merric did. The little Altean lordling had waltzed into Wendell's care, currying favor with near every teacher in Khadein and overshadowed him. Never mind the fact that he was older and Wendell's student for longer; even the fact that he was a more powerful mage than Merric had been overlooked. Excalibur should have been *his*. He had worked his entire life to make something of himself, only to be tossed aside when another country's noble batted his eyes at the right people.

But not everyone could ignore his talent. Arlen was named general of Khadein's famed mage army and was entrusted with the Thoron tome. While it was certainly no Excalibur, he knew that he had earned this power. So many sleepless nights, spent practicing spells for hours on end and studying theory until he could barely keep his eyes open. Arlen had never been the type to brown nose, and he never would be; the mages in his ranks would know that hard work was the only way to move forward.

And yet...his talent had nothing to do with why he had been passed over. In the fight against the Alteans, who but Master Wendell himself came to his pupil, informing him that talent, or lack thereof, was not the reason he had not received the tome he so desired.

"You lack a compassionate heart, my student."

While hearing that itself had wounded him, the most painful part was being compared to the Dark Pontifex himself; he, too, had found himself drunk on the wine of jealousy. While he might not have gone quite as far as the former Pontifex had, he had gotten frighteningly close to taking his place, perhaps being known as a lesser Gharnef rather than a lesser Merric.

But that didn't matter anymore. The war had finally come to an end, and he found himself back in Khadein taking the role of a High Bishop just as Wendell had wanted him to. Merric had gone to Pales, the capital of Archanea, alongside his wife Princess Elise. Arlen was certain his companion had no want for earthly comforts or pleasures in the Millenium Court. Khadein, being a desert country, was not always the most pleasant to reside with its constant, and sometimes unbearable, heat and difficulty in procuring produce. But it was home.

What made home most pleasant for Arlen, though, was the presence of his own wife. Ironically enough, her own father was the pupil from Wendell's warning who lost his life from the man whose path Arlen was dangerously close to walking. Sometimes he felt guilty for taking her away from Pales, where she was a woman of great import, but she constantly reassured him that she made the decision to come with him herself and that she would make that decision again in a heartbeat if she ever found herself time travelling.

Sometimes Arlen still felt the little pangs of envy, especially when encountering other wind mages, but it had become difficult to keep that on his mind as he worked to restore the city of magic. It was the furthest thing from his mind when Linde came to him as he worked one night, picking his hand up from where it lay and resting it upon her stomach, showing him how their child kicked and moved. The thoughts that had once consumed him lay forgotten, abandoned in the corner of Arlen's mind to collect dust. 

He would never have what Merric did; but he wouldn't want it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> if y'all wanna watch me complain or whateva peep my Twitter @juliusvelthomer


End file.
